Extirpation
by snowangel4
Summary: COMPLETE SV Ironic how everyone was ecstatic to find out she was alive, but now she only wished she was dead. Post-Telling
1. 1

Title: Extirpation

Author: snowangel

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: This story just seemed to come up out of nowhere, and has taken its course, this is an angsty, darker, post-telling fic, just so y'all are warned. I hope y'all like it! The song is Bring Me To Life, by Evanescence, I do not own it.

Extirpation: 1.To destroy totally; exterminate

A thick humidity clung to the air, its presence seeming to suffocate the earth as she stood on the bridge, her palms sweaty, her deep brown eyes staring into the darkness. She glanced down at the dark swirling waters far beneath her, the sound of rushing water filled the night. 

She was acutely aware of everything, her senses heightened, she felt the warm wind against her face, could taste the salt of her tears that had dripped down her face. The sounds of traffic flooded her ears, as she breathed in deeply, and released a quivering breath. Her chest rose and fell with an uneven cadence as she clenched her hands into fists while shutting her eyes tight. She took one step closer, not daring to peer down at the tumultuous waters. 

She let out another breath and laughed briefly. This is the part of the movie where the handsome man comes running to her, begging her not to jump while professing his undying love for her. Then he would help her over the railing and grasp her tightly against his body while she collapsed into tears. He'd kiss her, and they'd live happily ever after.  But it was no movie. There was no happily ever after. 

She had always imagined what her life would be like when she grew up. She'd be independent, yet loving, get married, and have a couple of kids. Funny how this was never in the picture. 'How the hell did I end up here?'

It had been a month. A month since she had woken up in Hong Kong. A month since she discovered she had lost two years of her life. A month since she had found that the man she loved was married to another woman. A month since her life turned upside down.

She didn't know how to feel at first. She was so confused and felt more alone than she had ever felt in her whole life. She shut her eyes as the conversation played out in her head like a movie. Ironic how everyone was ecstatic to find out she was alive, but now she only wished she was dead.

 The truth was she didn't know how to react, so she became numb.

_***Flashback***_

She awoke to find him staring at her through the glass. She sat up, wondering how long he had been standing there.  She had finally fallen asleep after the doctors had given her a sedative after all the tests. She hadn't spoken to him since he that night. Since he had betrayed her. Funny how words can be so destructive. 'Syd, I'm married.' That had been a week ago. 

Will, her father, Marshal and Dixon had been elated to see her. She was still in too much of a shock to process the events; she only played along, her tumultuous emotions tugging at her in countless directions.  Then the realization finally hit her. She had been robbed. Robbed of her life, her love, her spirit. She felt incredibly empty, as one of the worst feelings in the word is one of uselessness. Life had not ceased when she had disappeared, but seemed to have moved at a faster pace, she hadn't spoken for four days. She refused to eat, only pacing wildly in her cell. 

She slid off the cot, tentatively stepping forward. She made no move to speak, her once dangerous anger towards him now replaced by a biting feeling of betrayal. A sudden fear ran through her body at the sight of him, with his piercing green eyes that didn't stray from her. What was once her rock was now her fear. He had hurt her so much. Her heart pounded in her chest as she finally met his eyes with her own.

She pursed her lips she heard him speak her name, "Sydney."

_How can you see into my eyes   
Like open doors   
Leading you down into my core  
Where I've become so numb?   
Without a soul;   
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold,   
Until you find it there and lead it back home.   
  
Wake me up inside.   
Wake me up inside.   
  
_

            She said nothing, so weak inside. The only way she remain strong was her silence, and she _had_ to be strong. She felt naked under his insistent gaze. She waited for him to speak again, she waited for him to break down, for him to confess to his undying love for her. But he didn't.

            He cleared his throat, his eyes still studying her. She shifted nervously and stared at the cement floor. "I just came to tell you that I'm leaving." He spoke calmly.

_Call my name and save me from the dark.   
Bid my blood to run.   
Before I come undone.   
Save me from the nothing I've become.  
Now that I know what I'm without   
you can't just leave me.   
Breathe into me and make me real._

 She needed him to break down, for her own sanity, she needed him to break her out of this nightmare. But he didn't.

"I just thought you should know." He spoke again, taking in her appearance. She looked tired, haggard, she was too skinny-he had heard she wasn't eating. Her pale skin reflected a ghostly glow from the florescent lights overhead.  She looked up at him again, begging him with her eyes to stay.

_I've been living a lie_

_There's nothing inside.   
   
Frozen inside without your touch,   
without your love, darling.   
Only you are the life among the dead. _  
  


            "Vaughn," She started carefully, she formed words in her mind but nothing came out. She managed to look him square in the eye when she finally spoke timidly, "Where are you going?"

_All of this sight   
I can't believe I couldn't see   
Kept in the dark   
but you were there in front of me   
I've been sleeping a 1000 years it seems.   
I've got to open my eyes to everything. _

_  
Without a thought   
Without a voice   
Without a soul _

_  
Don't let me die here _

_There must be something more.   
Bring me to life._

  
            He shied away from her gaze for the first time that day. He stared at the zigzagging pattern of bricks on the wall of the cell. "Syd," He spoke, turning back to her, "I have to go home." 

He was leaving her. She knew when she saw the wedding band that he'd already left her, but now he was physically leaving. She was breaking. She needed him to save her. Why couldn't he see that?

She held her breath as she felt tears forming behind her eyes. She swallowed, unable to break her eyes away from his. She simply nodded in acknowledgement. He turned away, and tears spilled over her eyes, dropping to the floor with a tiny splatter. She collapsed to the floor, her tears ceasing, as she no longer let herself feel pain. 

She was released later that day to go home. Wherever that was.

***Present*** 

She swallowed and pulled herself up straight. A million thoughts raced through her mind as suddenly everything became still. 

No longer could she hear the sounds of the traffic, or the crashing tides beneath her, only the deep and rapid pounding of her heart. She couldn't feel the warm breeze against her tear-streaked face; she only felt her hot blood coursing through her veins. She couldn't taste the salt in her mouth, she could only taste fear. 

Her thoughts crowded into her head, so many of them, causing her confusion. She just wanted to escape all of it. She couldn't handle it anymore.  She felt disconnected from her body as she took the last step forward and felt a thrill surge through her as her body plunged into a dark abyss.  

TBC……


	2. 2

***Hey y'all! Thanks so much for reading my little story, I hope y'all like it so far! A special thanks to those who reviewed!(However I haven't been able to view them yet due to the site's inefficiencies) Thanks so much! I'm doing something different with this fic, every other chapter I think it will alternate from Sydney's then Vaughn's POV, this is my first attempt at this style so let me know if you like it or not. That's all, enjoy!

Sorry for the delay but you probably know that ff.net has been kind of crazy over the weekend and what not, with all the upgrades and such. And it's been storming a lot here lately and it seems that whenever it rains I can never get on the Internet…darn dial-up. Ug. Anyways, that's more than enough from me. 

            He stirred restlessly in his bed, his body exhausted, his mind alert. He stared up at the ceiling, illuminated only by the brightness of the scarlet numbers on his clock, 2:28 AM. He rolled to his side, arm behind his head, propping himself up to gaze at the sleeping woman next to him. Her even breaths pulsed rhythmically, a strand of blonde hair cascading down her cheek. 

          He tried to stop his thoughts from wandering where he knew they would inevitably take him. They always did, night after night. And if it was the only thing he learned so far, he knew that habits were hard to break. He loved Alice, he truly did. But their love was more of a mutual care, an affection for each other. Both knew this when entering the marriage, Alice had lost her dad, Vaughn had lost Sydney. They had found each other, it was that simple. 

          He shut his eyes, willing sleep to overtake his body as he lay down on his back again, returning his gaze to the ceiling. He finally surrendered to his thoughts, letting her to fully penetrate his mind. She had looked so frightened in Hong Kong; it was all he could do not to take her in his arms whisk her away to some faraway place where they could live happily ever after. But the question was after what? Even after being back in L.A for a month, she still could recall nothing. He bit down on his bottom lip, the ever-present feeling of guilt taking over his heart. If only he had walked her to the door, if only he had skipped the debrief, if only he had realized the obvious, if only he could go back.

          Vaughn let out a frustrated sigh; every night he played this game. Every night it got him nowhere. He scolded himself and convinced himself that everything was okay now, she was home. If only that were true. 

          He heard from Will that she wasn't doing so great. She was still unresponsive to everyone, only offering terse answers to their incessant questions. She hadn't responded to regression therapy, and although attending therapy twice a week, she had unofficially resigned from the CIA. Will would visit her apartment often, she'd moved into a new place and had become immaculate. The place was spotless, never anything out of place, she craved order. She had started working out again, and was soon returned to her previous state. Will had come over one night, only to find her passed out from exhaustion next to her treadmill. After placing her in bed he had looked at the treadmill, the timer reading three hours and four minutes. 

          It had been three weeks since he had last talked to her, the day at the Ops Center. He distinctly remembered the coldness that seemed to invade the cell as he spoke.  It would have been so much easier if she had been angry, if she had hated him. But no, she was pleading with him, begging him to stay, and he refused. 

          He turned on his side again, blankets bunching uncomfortably around him as he switched on a small bedside lamp. It illuminated the room, providing a much needed distraction, and diffusing the insistent stare of the bright clock. His eyes scanned the room resting on the dresser that stood directly in front of him. 

           "_Vaughn, I mean, okay, the backpack is getting a little ridiculous." _

_"What do you mean?" _

_          "The middle drawer. It's yours." _

_          "Yeah?"  _

_"It's just a drawer." _

_"I'm just saying it's a great idea." _

          He quickly averted his eyes from the dresser. Thoughts of her kept plaguing his mind. It had gotten worse ever since she had returned. He turned off the light, better to be in darkness than to suffer in the light.  He thought back to their conversation at her cell. He had forced himself to stay strong, to stay neutral. He couldn't let her see that he still cared. It would only hurt her more. Knowing that they couldn't be together was crushing her, but it would only ensure more pain if he told her that he loved her. She'd be angry at herself, it was better that she was angry with him. 

          Still restless he concentrated on the cadenced heavy breaths of his wife. He matched his own to hers, and was soon lulled into a light slumber. 

The shill song of a cell phone jolted him from his sleep. He felt Alice stir as she called out his name sleepily, "Michael..." she started but was too exhausted to finish.

He stole a glance at his clock before standing up and crossing the room, 2:47 AM. He strode over to the desk, where he kept his CIA cell phone, usually where it lay dormant. 

          "Vaughn." He answered in a husky voice, not fully awake as he rubbed his eyes. He froze midway as heard the words. 

          After a long silence, Vaughn realized he hadn't responded. He shook his head slightly before speaking, "Okay, I'll be right there." He said quietly, abruptly hanging up the phone, his heart seeming to pound right through his chest, as he forced his body to move, his attention once again solely focused on Sydney Bristow.

TBC…..Please Review! Thanks for reading!


	3. 3

Alright folks! Here's chapter three! I hope y'all like it. Sorry for the delay in posting but things are a little crazy around here. This chapter was difficult to get out, I hope it's not too rough around the edges, I'm still not completely satisfied, but wanted to post before school starts up again. 

Thanks so much for reading, and another special thanks to my reviewers! Enjoy!

A huge weight seemed to press upon her body, while feeling only the beating of her heart. Sydney fought to open her eyelids only to be greeted by harshness of a pristine white. She found herself in a hospital bed. Suddenly the vast realization that she was alive cascaded upon her. 

Her entire body ached, she shut her eyes again, feeling if she had just been hit by a truck. In reality she probably went through worse than that. She stirred and immediately sensed a movement beside her. It was Will. He had fallen asleep on a chair next to her bed. She turned her head in just enough time to see him wake from his light slumber. 

His eyes flung open as he immediately edged to the side of the bed, barely coherent words tumbling from his mouth.  

"Oh Syd, thank god you're here. I've been waiting for you to wake up. I knew you would wake up. Why'd you do it Syd? Why?" He questioned rapidly, pools of wetness forming in his eyes. He leaned over, and gingerly brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. Tired lines etched their way into his face, giving his usual boyish face a mature demeanor. He looked down at the floor, unable to face her. "They found you by the river." He started, pausing as his voice cracked, "Some joggers on a late night run. They thought you were dead, just washed up on the rocks." 

            She opened her mouth to speak, but decided against it. He couldn't possibly understand. Sydney took in a breath, tears forming in her own eyes, but for different reasons. His presence overwhelmed her. She turned away from him, facing a window that looked out into the world. She studied the trees intently, in attempt to divert her thoughts from her life. She noted the subtle changing of greens in each leaf as they swayed in the slight breeze.  

            "You know we love you Syd." He continued as he looked up, his blue eyes intently staring at her. "I love you so much." His voice becoming a whisper. 

 He took her hand in his, careful of the I.V. She was cold, her hand seemingly lifeless as he desperately clutched to it. He waited for her to speak. But she couldn't. She just couldn't deal with this. She silently turned and faced forward, her eyes fluttered as she feigned exhaustion, but in reality her mind was racing. 

She was tired of fighting. Tired of fighting the pain. She remembered reading in a bio class in college how the body will automatically shut down if it is in too much main. But she had developed an immunity. Hardened by years of torment and suffering, fooling her body into an illusioned state. 

She had watched others, their strings running thin for so many years until it broke. But hers didn't. If the string doesn't break you have to cut it yourself.  She gasped in pain as she took a deep breath, her body ached, her mind ached, and most of all her soul ached. 

Will stared at her in wonderment and concern. Sydney was so strong. She had always been strong. A million questions raced through his mind though he never letting his intense gaze wander from her brown eyes. 

Exhausted, Sydney gave him a weak smile to placate him, before pretending to fall into a deep sleep.

Her act soon became reality as she plunged into unconsciousness. 

She awoke some hours later, relieved in finding herself to be alone. She peered out the window into the hallway, covered in tiny little black lines, criss-crossing, making diamonds on the glass. She saw her father, he was having an animated conversation with a doctor, the doctor nodding his head while Jack's mouth rattled off orders. She watched them intently until suddenly they both looked down the hallway. 

She heard the dim intonations of the muted voices in the hallway, sound blocked by the thick door that lay closed. Blissfully blockading her from her fears temporarily. Suddenly a figure came into her small vista of the window.  

Her heart started to race, the lines on the monitor jumping. She felt her hands become clammy as she searched around the room frantically, desperate for an escape. 'Why was he here?' She shut her eyes as she willed herself to be anywhere but here.

She couldn't bear to talk to Vaughn, she was so ashamed, she had failed yet again. Having him see her this way was worse than seeing her dead. 'God why wouldn't they just leave? They had already believed she was dead so why didn't they let her do it?'

            Through one opened eye she watched the two men interact. Vaughn frantic, his voice wavering as he gazed in at her. Jack stoic, laying down in no uncertain terms that she wasn't up for any visitors. The doctor frazzled, though relishing his momentary break from Jack's demands. 

She lay still, yet again forging her slumber. The sound of her pounding heart filled her ears as she desperately tried to elude their inevitable presence. 

Miraculously, Jack and Vaughn's cell phones rang. They exchanged a slight glance before excusing themselves from the doctor. She watched as her father wandered down the hallway, his ear to his phone.  Vaughn sat down on a bench outside her room, his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, bringing his hand across his face in frustration.

            This provided a perfect chance for her escape, and probably her only chance. It wasn't until she started formulating a plan when she realized the extent of her injuries. She shifted slightly and found her entire right side of her body covered with bruises. Various cuts and scratches laced up her body, starting at her ankle and not ending until her forehead. She reached up and touched her face, her arm screaming out in pain as she did so. She ignored it and found a large bandage covering her forehead. She looked down at her arm for the first time and found her wrist in a hard cast.  She sighed, she knew she should have just taken the pills instead- what was she thinking by jumping?

            The sound of footsteps brought her back from her thoughts. A nurse quietly entered her room, a chart in hand. She shut her eyes quickly, not wanting to have to make contact with the woman. She listened to the quiet shuffling of the woman working, the sound of papers passing over each other in her file, the clicking of a pen. She felt a slight tug on her I.V as the nurse readjusted it over the sheets, and then checked on the monitor that hung from the wall. After a few moments Sydney heard the footsteps retreat and dared to open her eyes again. 

            The woman was nowhere in sight, she glanced out the glass window and found Vaughn still hunched in the same position.  The desperation soon returned to her mind as she focused solely on her escape route. Her eyes darted to the window as she wondered what floor she was on. Rational thoughts returned to her as she realized that she was in a CIA hospital, and security would find the breach almost immediately. 

            Suddenly she sensed a movement through the window. Her father had returned, Vaughn also now standing as the nurse approached them. 

            A wave of panic swept over her at the thought of him seeing her like this, she'd rather have him see her dead. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as all coherent thoughts halted as she pulled the sheets from the bed, exposing her body. She yanked the I.V out of her arm, immediately setting off an alarm. Her body protested as she stood up, walking was even more of a feat. Struggling she moved herself to the window of the room, she looked down. Second floor. Her eyes quickly calculated the distance, probably about fifteen feet.

 She took no precautions as she flung open the window, stepping over the edge. First letting one foot dangle, and then the other. Shifting to her stomach she let out a cry, a fresh wound on her abdomen catching on the rough brick of the wall. Sharp stones dug into her as she shut her eyes tightly and held her breath to fight the pain. Lowering herself further she gripped the rim of the window with all of her strength. She heard a nurse frantically enter the room, and then a voice cry out. She stilled for a moment the edge of the window jutting into her skin. She glanced down at the ground beneath her before she let go. 

            A strong force gripped her as her body slammed into the ground below. She groaned loudly, a pounding headache taking over her body as she tried to force herself to stand. Failing miserably she tried again, this time making it to her feet, her labored breaths filling her ears. Every fiber of her being ached with a stinging pain, but every notion in her mind told her to run. So she did.  

            She made it to the street before she looked back. When she did she wished she hadn't.  She had heard him call her name.  Her passing glance revealed to her more pain, more confusion, more sorrow than she ever wished to see. So she ran, and didn't look back when he called her name again. 

TBC….


	4. 4

Here's another chapter folks! I'm hoping to continue to update more regularly now but will be going out of town tomorrow, but hey I'll try for y'all! Thank you so much to all my readers for sticking with this and especially those who reviewed, Joey Bing, girldevil, zrodezina, jennycraig10, and serendipity112233. I really wanted to finish this fic before school started but it starts on Monday so we'll see. I predict there will be four more chapters after this so I hope you enjoy them. Thanks again!

He had gotten the call. He drove recklessly back to L.A, silently cursing himself on moving so far away. He looked to the clock that seemed to stare up at him from his dashboard, 3:15 AM. The freeway was desolate, save for a few lonely cars littering the landscape. He swallowed as he fought back tears. Suicide. The word floated around in his head, bouncing through his brain. He clenched his jaw, his foot increasing pressure on the gas pedal. His emotions torn. Torn between the feeling of her utter desolation and between his own anger. She had no right. She had no right to kill herself. Didn't she know he loved her?

            He scolded himself for even thinking that she could. He had done almost everything to convince her otherwise. Vaughn took in a deep breath before letting out a loud cry of frustration, his own voice filling the interior of his car, echoing back into his ears. 

            A silence soon followed, only disturbed by the low hum of his engine. Vaughn looked down at the speedometer. 79 MPH. His eyes strained against the darkness the lay in front of him. A small circle of light provided by his headlights brightly lit up the painted stripes of the freeway, the radiant glow contrasting to the darkness of the night. He thoughts wandered as him imagination got the better of him. Was she okay? Was she dying? Was she in pain? He pictured her in a hospital bed, fighting for the painful life she never wanted, nor deserved. 

            He swallowed, straightening himself in his seat. Get a grip. He told himself. He determined to be strong. Him breaking down in front of her was certainly not going to help. He sighed anxiously; the drive to L.A would take about three hours at best. He momentarily fixed his gaze on the clock again. 3:23. 

Time was never on his side.

~~~***~~~

He had made it to the hospital in two and a half hours. 

He now found himself just outside her room, Jack informing him on her condition. A broken wrist, concussion, multiple fractured ribs not to mention a plethora of scarring scrapes, cuts and bruises. He felt a literal pain in his heart as he had heard the words. He hated this. He absolutely hated it. He had always despised her returning from missions with a new bruise every week. She didn't deserve to be in pain. 

He looked at her body, lying frailly on the bed. The color had drained from her face, a bandage covering her forehead. Her beauty now marred. Marred because of him. He swallowed as he felt an onslaught of tears threaten to take him hostage. He shook them away as he turned back to Jack. 

He listened to his words, but was too preoccupied to hear them. He discreetly studied Jack as he rattled of orders to a doctor. He looked tired, beaten, as if life had thrown him for a loop once again. Vaughn paused as he took in his face, his eyes were slightly red, as if he had been crying, however his usual stoic face prevailed through it, allowing him to appear strong. 

Minimal staff occupied the halls considering it was near six in the morning. They stood outside her room, when a shrill noise coursed through the near desolate hallways. It took him a moment to realize the noise was being emitted from his pocket. He picked up his phone, noticing Jack mirroring his actions, no doubtably in answer to the CIA.

            "Vaughn." He answered curtly as he sat down on the bench. He vaguely listened to the voice on the other line, his thoughts somewhere else. He ran his hands over his face as he heard the words 'urgent' and 'report immediately'. He swallowed, nodding into the phone as the voice continued. He gave a deep sigh when he heard the voice cease, and hung up his phone. 

            He felt the stress welling up inside of him, his mind struggling to understand the mind-set of Sydney Bristow while his heart thumped loudly in his chest. He looked at the hallway, light reflecting off the impeccably shiny floors. The scent of ammonia and sterile cleaner seemed to permeate his senses, as he brought his hands to his knees, feeling the course threads of his jeans beneath his fingers. The air seemed to suffocate him, while a quiet alarm rang in the background. He rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his head with his hands as his felt the world start to spin. He shut his eyes tightly to shut out the dizziness, the harsh light and most of all the reality of his life. 

            The sound of rapid footsteps and a nurse's cry jerked him from his trance. He stood up quickly, too quickly as blood rushed to his head, his eyes momentarily showing him only darkness. He blinked as the world came into focus but the scene portrayed before his eyes seemed entirely fantastical. 

            Chaos had erupted, he saw a nurse fly out of the room, running to the nurses station, calling out for someone to call security. Vaughn looked in the hospital room, at first seeing nothing unusual but then discovered the disconcerting fact that the hospital bed lie empty, and the window lie opened. 

Fear gripped him as he felt it tingle down to his toes, fearing the worst. He rushed to the window and saw the form of Sydney Bristow lying on the ground struggling to get to her feet. His breath constricted in his chest at the sight of her, and he tried to call out her name, but nothing escaped. He watched in horror as she pulled herself to her feet and started running towards the street. Finally he was able to find his voice as he called out to her.

He watched her spin around as her eyes met his, her brown orbs filled with terror and panic, his own filled with sheer sadness and confusion. Their hearts seemed to join for that spilt second, both terrified of what was to come.

Suddenly she turned again, running away from him. He leaned out the window and called her name again, but this time she didn't turn around. And it broke his heart.  

~~~***~~~

            "Honey, will you pass the salt?" The woman's voice called to him. He was unresponsive, yet again lost in thought. "Michael." 

            He looked up at the sound of his name, "What?" He asked simply as he looked up at his wife, abandoning his baked potato that was being massacred on his plate rather than eaten.

            She looked at him with her blue eyes, although oblivious to details, she knew something had happened. She had known it ever since he had come home one day about a month ago after leaving abruptly in the middle of the night. She knew it was something with work, she trusted him completely, but she never had seemed to figure out why he had become so forlorn. She looked down at her plate as she paused, "I just asked if you could pass the salt." She repeated, looking back into his green eyes.

            "Sorry honey." He said as he passed the small shaker across the table. He felt a sudden remorse, not for the salt incident, but how he had been unfair to her. He had been distant from her, although trying to hide it, he couldn't shield his emotions from her. She had understood, to a certain extent. But after a week had passed and he was still distracted, she had become sad. He would have expected her to become angry, but she didn't. She wasn't the type, besides, she could never hold a grudge. 

            He paused and took a breath, "How'd your presentation go today?" He asked, genuinely interested. 

            "It was fine, the client really like the bit about the new building." She spoke. He nodded and gave her a weak smile.

            "Good." He replied simply. 

            "Did you finish the paper work on the Mathese case today?" She asked as she stood up from the table, clearing her plate. 

            "Yeah, it's good to finally be through with it." He said, getting up to clear his own plate. He worked as a lawyer now, at a small firm not far from their home. But thoughts of work only brought on thoughts of the CIA, and inevitably, Sydney. 

The CIA had searched for her, but she was an expert at disappearing, an expert at becoming someone else. He absent-mindedly kissed his wife on the neck as he came up behind her while she stood by the sink. He took his place next to her as she started washing the dishes. This was their routine, every night she'd wash, and he'd dry. 

The lull in time it took her fill the sink gave him an opportunity to let his thoughts wander back to Sydney again. He too had searched for her, but eventually the daily trek into the city became too much for him, for his wife. He had given up on it, but not on her.  His mind reeled at what could have happened to her, what she could have done to herself. Grotesque images plagued his mind and he winced at the possibilities. 

Every night he prayed she wasn't dead. That was his only prayer. 

TBC….


	5. 5

            Sorry for the delay in updating! But school has started and everything is crazy! I'll try to update this story more regularly but school is in fully swing so I'll see what I can do. Again, thank you to everyone for reading and for those who reviewed! You make me happy! (Btw, if I didn't mention your name previously and you reviewed, it's not because I don't love it, it's just that sometimes I can't view all the reviews) That's enough from me, on with the story! Enjoy!

            The sound of her own feet pounding on the pavement filled her ears.  She ran until her body could take no more. Her lungs screamed for air as she doubled over, gasping for oxygen as she gripped the side of a building, barely holding herself up. She must have looked insane, dressed in only a hospital gown, exhausted beaten up and practically hysterical. The sound of sirens screaming towards her jolted her out of her state of delirium. Survival instincts kicked in, and feeling another rush of adrenaline Sydney looked up at the building she was clinging to. St. John's Cathedral. 

            She trudged up the shallow steps, leading to the enormous wooden doors. She pulled open one tentatively, peeking in, after nervously glancing behind her. Finding it empty, she entered. A wave of cold air wafted over her, causing her to shiver in the omniscient silence. Her heavy breathing filled the church, her eyes sweeping over the space, huge arched ceilings dominated the building, an ornate alter stood at the front of the church, accompanied by a large crucifix that hung on the wall above it. She glanced to her sides, seeing only confessionals lining the walls but was relieved to find some small offices to her right. She immediately strode to the office and felt almost elated when she saw a petite woman working behind a computer. She entered quietly and before the woman could react, she brought her elbow down on the woman, rendering her unconscious. She breathed apologies and felt temporary pangs of guilt shoot through her for doing such a thing in a church.

            Her body tired, she managed to swap clothes with the woman, along with taking her credit card and driver's license. She ripped the large bandage off her forehead, not wanting to see what lie beneath it as she searched through the woman's purse for some make-up. She winced when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror of a small compact. Using a liberal amount of concealer, she was able to masquerade as a normal person. Actually as Patricia Sandberg. She awkwardly swept her ragged hair up in a ponytail, as one of her hands was in a cast. She took a deep breath and pain echoed through her entire body. She dreaded the moment the morphine would eventually wear off. She moved to the doorway of the small office, ready to make her escape when the sharp sound of footsteps resounded through the vacant church.  

She searched the room frantically for a place to hide but then realize her recent activities would be dreadfully obvious considering the unconscious woman lying in front of her desk. She stepped into the hallway, coming face to face with a priest. Not knowing what else to do she quickly knocked him unconscious, her body protesting with each movement. She watched as the old man crumpled to the floor before her eyes. If she weren't already going to hell, now she would be for sure. Still full of panic she rapidly made her escape, exiting out the back of the large church.   

            She had made it to the airport, and had purchased a one-way flight to O'Hare. Her freedom was delivered on flight 4932, yet she was still imprisoned as she stepped off the plane four hours later.

~~~***~~~

            She had flown to nine states in the past four days, assuming a new identity each flight. She had stopped using credit cards, now only using cash. She was exhausted. Her body felt the most weary and pained in the past four days than she had her entire life. She knew she didn't look much better. Sleep was a luxury, only awarded on long flights to nowhere. Her mind seemed to buzz as she was hopped up on painkillers. Actually the strongest thing she could find was Advil in the airport convenient store, but she had already used an entire bottle. 

Entirely fed up with her escape, and confidant the CIA could no longer track her, Sydney found herself at the MSP airport in Minnesota. She trudged through the terminal, wondering what her life had become. She was tired, she needed relief. She followed a throng of people out the door and found herself at a bus terminal. She looked up and saw a large greyhound idling before her. She looked up at the lights in front. Chicago. She boarded without hesitation, immediately falling asleep as she took a seat.  She slept the entire eight hours until she hit Chicago. 

~~~***~~~

            Acrid smoke permeated the air of the nightclub. The heat seemed to trap it as it hung over a crowd of people, hovering in the center of the dance floor. Neon lights flashed through the cheap club as music pounded, reverberating off the walls. Women dressed in little clothing clung to guys as their bodies grinded together. Felecia elbowed her way through the throng of pulsing people, forcing her way up to the bar. 

            "Hey, we got another out in the back." She yelled at the bartender as her hand motioned towards a back room of the club. The man looked up from behind the counter, sweat covered his body as he looked at her with annoyance. 

            "Eh, what are ya gonna do?" He replied apathetically. There was nothing they could do. There was always a group of regulars that came to the club for other intentions than dancing. He poured a drink as he looked back at the woman. "Anyone dead?" He questioned loudly over the obtrusive music. 

            "No." She replied as she took a seat on a stool. He handed her a drink and she looked up to him gratefully. "Thanks." She said, downing it in one gulp. Felicia turned on her stool and watched the crowd before her. She was manager of this place, Eddie, the bartender owned it. She watched as the bodies mingled before her. She checked her watch, 3:24. The club closed at four. She couldn't wait to get out of here. She stayed at her perch at the bar and watched as things wound down.

 She ran her hands through her brown hair, hating the way smoke seemed to cover it. She closed her eyes momentarily as she let her thoughts wander a bit. She opened her eyes again and glanced at her watch again. 3:53. Close enough. She was closing. She ushered the few remaining people out the front door, onto the cold streets. It was winter, and a few flakes of snow wandered through the door. She watched as Eddie cleaned up and the bouncers grabbed their jackets and headed home. 

This was her least favorite part. Getting the people from the back room. Most of them still there were passed out, or else too zonked to realize what was going on. She made her way to the back, relieved to only find two remaining people. One man, probably about 22 or so was awake, and was standing up, seeming to be lecturing an imaginary audience. She spoke to him as she led him out the door, as he stared at her with wide eyes.

 She went back in and found the other. It was a girl. She was huddled in a corner, knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly against herself as she rocked back and forth. She glanced down at her, a small sense of pity forming for the girl. She had blonde hair, though obviously dyed as its dark roots protruded. She eyed the girl's arm. Heroine.

 She called out to Eddie to come get her. She was a regular; she had been for about a month now. Every night she'd come, and stay until they closed. Every night Eddie would carry her out the door, leaving her on a bench close to the building. Every night she and Eddie would lock up, and the girl would be mysteriously gone.  Felicia sighed. This stuff wasn't her responsibility, it was their choice to use. She didn't advocate it but hey, she needed to make a living, and the group of addicts always provided business to the club.

Sydney awoke, her heart pounding rapidly. Her eyes were swollen as she attempted to open them. The first thing she felt was the heat. She was always hot. She shifted and found herself on her bed. Her body amongst the cool white sheets. Her throat was parched as she unsuccessfully tried to swallow. She groaned as she took a breath and lifted herself from her bed, taking in her surroundings. She blinked and her head throbbed, the soft whirring of a broken fridge seeming to make way to much noise. She finally forced herself up as she sat upright on her bed. She blinked again as she tried to remember the previous night, but she came up blank. Every morning she'd wake up in her apartment, not remembering how she had gotten there. The last memory would always be of her standing on black pavement, waiting to get into the club.  

She glanced about her apartment. It was almost bare, save for a bed, a chair and a small kitchen- all in one room. She forced herself out of bed as her legs felt like stumps beneath her. She rubbed her face, trying to bring herself out of her state as she made her way to the tiny bathroom and splashed cold water on her face.  

Sydney looked in the mirror, and saw a stranger looking back at her. She was blonde, her hair cut short. Her face looked old and ragged. She was thin; her eyes seemed to stick out abnormally from her gaunt face. She brushed her teeth and downed some aspirin that lay on her sink. She turned and stared at the reflection. It frightened her. She felt fear rise in her chest, as she slunk to the floor as thoughts of him invaded her mind. Her shoulders started to shake, her breathing labored as she gave into her tears. Sobs wracked her body, the sound of her own distress causing pain in her head as her crying amplified. The bottle of aspirin suddenly fell from the sink, making an unbearable racket as it clattered loudly on the floor, pills rattling inside of it's plastic body. Sydney lowered her body fully on the floor as she grabbed the bottle of aspirin and hugged it to her chest. She curled up in a fetal position on the dingy tile, studying the dirty grout between each tile before she shut her eyes tightly. Her body shook from her tears as she called out his name. But no one was there to hear it. 

TBC……

Review! If you feel so inclined to do so :0) 


	6. 6

Alright y'all, here's chapter six! Sorry for the delay, but my teachers keep on insisting on giving me loads of homework, ug! But thank God for 3 day weekends! I'll see how much I can get done before the week. I think this fic has about two to three chapters left, so I hope y'all enjoy them. Thanks a bunch for reading! Feel free to review, and thank you so much to those of you who do. You have no idea how much I value feedback. Anyways, that's about it. Oh yeah, this chapter sort of deviates from the previous five as it's not from Sydney's or Vaughn's POV, but I think (hope?) y'all like it.  I'll resume alternating S/V POV next chapter I think. 

Happy Labor Day! (Btw, what does Labor Day exactly celebrate/commemorate anyway?)

She had stayed in the shadows. Although hidden by darkness, she'd always be watching. She had watched her as she stumbled, and even though Sydney couldn't see it, she had picked her back up. Constantly on the lookout, they played in an elaborate game of hide and seek. 

Irina locked her eyes on the screen, her eyes hard, her expression neutral. The slight pursing of her lips was the only inclination of her anxiety. She had watched her daughter's life unfold before her. Irina sighed; this wasn't how it was supposed to be. She had followed Sydney when she had left L.A. She had let her out of her sight once, and she wasn't going to let that happen again. 

She had sent one of her workers to watch over her. But she knew she couldn't trust anyone but herself, she had him set up hidden camera in her apartment. And then she sent him to Uruguay. Irina focused on the screen once again. She picked up her cell phone, shifting her gaze out the window. Tides gathered at the cold beach before her, as traces of snow dotted the sand along the shore. 

But the sight of the waves sent memories flooding back to her. She remembered that night. The night when Sydney broke, the night when her own life broke. It had been hot, and Sydney had been oblivious to her presence. She had watched from a van, as she left her house, garbed in running clothes and a lost countenance. Irina waited an hour for her return, but soon after she knew something was wrong. She scolded herself for not keeping closer tabs on her, as she knew she couldn't be trusted. 

She set out to find her, masked by the darkness of the night as she stole down miles of pavement. Her mind worked ferociously, trying to solve the enigma of her daughter's mind. She was running now, but hardly out of breath. The soft steady sound of her feet hitting the pavement created a song in her head as the beat merged with the whisper of a soft wind. Rows of quiet houses passed by in uniform, as a lone car passed by in the palm of the night. A chill suddenly ran down her body, carrying to the depths of her toes as a realization swept over her. Irina quickly made a right turn as she headed towards the bridge.  Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the small figure of a woman step off the edge. 

She had screamed her name, but it was too late. She watched in horror as she heard a splash. Her body reacted as her mind went blank. She found herself scuttling down the steep banks of the river, making her way down the ravine. She made quickly, not caring the scratches that swiped across her face. Irina paused, frantically searching for her daughter in the darkness of the river. A few streetlights on a jogging trail nearby cast a yellow glow over the black water, reflecting into the night. Her keen eyes scanned the area, she climbing on the rocks next to the shore when she caught sight of her. 

Without hesitation she dove in. Swirling water filled her sense as her powerful arms fought against the current. She gasped for breath momentarily before diving back beneath the surface. She had somehow managed to find her in the murky waters.

She had dragged her to shore, her mind flipping through scenarios as she made sure Sydney was breathing. She paused a moment, catching her own breath as the reality of the situation dawned on her. This was her baby girl, she was broken, she was hurting, she was bleeding. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes but she refused to let the fall as she cradled her daughter in her arms. Remorse took over her emotions as she tried to think rationally. A plan formulated in her mind as her spy instincts resumed control. She had to leave her. 

She left her on the rocky beach, illuminated by a streetlight. Her fragile body was shattered. But Irina had stayed, she hid in the shadows, waiting. Fifteen minutes later two late night joggers came running by, finding her body. Satisfied she'd be safe now, Irina quickly fled the scene. 

The shrill jingle of a cell phone mercifully shook Irina out of her memories. 

"Yes?" She answered curtly, turning away from the window. "No I don't care." She demanded. A slight pause followed as she turned her attention back to the screen. "Fine, just get it done." She said quickly before hanging up. 

Her eyes stayed on the screen. But the images were haunting. She was on the floor, she shook as she cried out his name. Irina cringed at the sight of it. She hated watching. She had watched enough. She pressed a button on her cell phone that was still nestled in hand. She knew it was time. 

Vaughn toyed with his keys as he walked out to his car. A slight breeze wafted over him as the sun hung low in the late afternoon sky. Long shadows cast by cars in the parking lot seemed to stain the pavement with darkness. He shifted his briefcase to his right hand as he gripped his car key, sending the others crashing together on the small metal loop, making a course jingling noise. He spotted his car and shifted his gaze down to the pavement, as the sun was too bright for his eyes. He stopped abruptly as he saw a woman, silhouetted by the shadows of the sun. He immediately tensed as his anger flared up, as well as his curiosity as a sense of dread formed in the bottom of his stomach.  

"What the hell are you doing here?" He questioned in a low tone. 

"I've come to talk to you." She said, her Russian accent shining through her words.

"What makes you think I'd ever talk to you?" He said vehemently, as he wished he still carried his gun with him. 

"It's about Sydney." She said, expecting his behavior. She watched as he immediately perked up at her name. A hard expression grew on his face as he clenched his jaw. He swallowed as he prepared himself for the worst.  He said nothing but waited for her to continue. Irina looked at him with wise eyes that seemed to hold something back. "She's in Chicago. You need to go find her." 

His heart jumped in relief, as a myriad of emotion coursed through him. He used to not think of anything but Sydney. He had finally been able to go for an hour without her entering his mind. But now that was history. He was hurt; he had never thought she'd do this. It was understandable, he partly blamed himself but she chose to do this. She chose to die, she chose to run from him. 

"I think if she wanted to be found she would have made that clear a long time ago." He said coldly. Suddenly he found her steely brown eyes, piercing his, as if she was silently reprimanding him.  He shifted under her gaze as he unconsciously shied away from her. She remained silent but her seemingly familiar eyes didn't waver. "I could have you in jail right now. I could call the CIA, and you'd be facing countless…" He began, not knowing what else to say. 

Irina gave him a stern look as she interrupted him, "Look, I didn't come here to chat." She commanded, she was not about to let him threaten her. "Go to Chicago." She said in a low tone, the sunlight casting a shadow across her features.  

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?" He questioned, anger apparent in voice.

"I'll tell you what you need to know. Go to Epitome, it's a nightclub on the south side. You'll find her there." She said, the look on her face one of deep concentration, as if she was going over each detail of information in her head. 

"Look I don't know why you think I'm going to…" He started, but she ignored his comment. 

"You love her." She spoke simply. He froze at her words, his heart leaping. She continued, her voice finally giving way to anger, "I will not let your stubbornness kill my daughter." Her jaw clenched as she faced off with him.

 He was quiet. She watched him contemplate the situation. She knew he was going to save her. She just didn't know when. She looked at him with stubborn eyes before he looked up at her again. He face was raw as he faced his father's killer. Worry and pain shown through the depths of his eyes as he looked at her.  

"Do not let my daughter break." She threatened in a low voice. She turned away, leaving him to his thoughts as he watched her retreating form.  

But the truth was she was already broken, and he needed to pick up the pieces before it was too late. 

TBC….


	7. 7

Chapter 7 is up! I had fun writing this chapter so I hope y'all like it. I'm pretty sure there's going to be two more chapters after this left in this story. Sorry again for the sporadic updating, but it seems like the only time I have to write is the weekend. Thanks so much for reading my story, and a special thanks to gum-addict, AnnaSun, WithAPenInHerHand, aliasscape, Emily, BT and MB138 for reviewing! I really value your comments! Thanks again for reading!

Another week had passed. Sydney stared out her apartment window, streams of sunlight passed through the glass, illuminating her in the early morning light. Her mind was blissfully unaware as she sat motionless on the cold window frame. She looked down at the street below her, scattered with banks of snow. But the snow didn't sparkle, it wasn't like the kind you'd see in pictures, it had lost all of its shine. It was dirty and tainted. 

            Normally she would be passed out right now, from her activities the previous night. But last night was different. She didn't pass out, only kept going. She remembered little, but her heart still beat rapidly in her chest, her eyes still glazed, but she felt good. The corners of her mouth turned up a little at that thought, she felt good. Her smile disappeared as she heard a noise behind her.  

            She looked up, seeing a form that occupied her doorway. She blinked in her stupor and stared at him with quizzical eyes. She staggered over to the doorway in silence where he stood frozen. A small smile took over her mouth again but didn't reach her eyes as she furrowed her brow in confusion

            "Hey, you look like someone I used to know." She said, taking him in briefly. She turned away, stumbling back to her spot at the window. She fixed her eyes on the window again, this time studying the old white paint chipping off the panes, and the snowy frost that formed around it. She pulled her knees up to her chest and pulled her tee shirt around her tighter in the cold. Sydney turned back to the man in her doorway. "You know, you're kind of cute." She said flirtatiously, tilting her head as if to get a better view. "How'd you get in here anyways?" She finally asked. 

            She watched him take a step forward, and then he paused. Sydney sighed. She was getting bored with him; she needed something more fun, more interesting. Bright sunlight shone through the window, illuminating the entire small apartment in an early morning glow. Her eyes scanned the room and caught on something shiny. It was her needle on the nightstand. She stood up slowly, making her way around her bed and to the nightstand. "I forgot, did you come here for something?" She asked as she sat down on her bed. He simply stared at her, yet to say a word. She picked up her needle, looking at it with a brief amazement as it reflected in the light before she bent down for a hit. Suddenly she felt strong arms grab her wrist, pulling her up off of her bed, causing the needle to drop to the floor. 

            "Syd!" She heard a male voice accost her sharply. "What do you think you're doing?" He said angrily, shaking her slightly. 

            "Hey, you're ruining my fun." She complained in a whiney voice, trying to wrestle free from his strong grip. He let go of her, the force of her struggling causing her to lose balance as she wound up sitting on her bed again. 

            "Sydney, you have to stop this!" The man commanded. 

            "Who the hell do you think you are?" She questioned vehemently as she stood up to face him, but she had lost her spark. Her eyes didn't blaze with fire; her cheeks didn't flush with anger, but stared blankly at him, her eyes foreign to him, her pale skin eerily bright against the sunlight. He locked eyes with her for a moment before she shut her eyes as if in a daze, and collapsed before him. 

            "I'm your guardian angel." He answered softly as he picked her up, and gently laid her on the bed. 

He had arrived, he knocked on the worn door but after getting no response he decided to go in anyway. He froze the moment he saw her. He didn't know how long he had stood there before she noticed him. His breath caught in his throat when she turned around. Her face was pale, her once long dark hair was now chopped short and dyed a cheap blonde. Her deep brown eyes were glazed over, her hair damp with sweat. She stood up, and he noticed how her tee shirt hung limply over her thin body. He swallowed and reminded himself to breath. Vaughn studied her intently as he lost himself in thought. He recognized that she had just spoken to him again as she made her way over to the bed. But he was still in too much thought to speak, not that he would have know what to say anyway. 

            He couldn't believe she was doing this to herself. Suddenly aware of her current plans, Vaughn bolted from his spot at the door, striding the short distance between him and the bed before he grabbed her. She had looked at him, looked deep into his eyes and still didn't recognize him. At least she was sleeping now. 

            He had pulled up a chair and sat next to her bed. His eyes were locked on her, and for some reason he couldn't tear them away. Her hair splayed out across a pillow as she lay in silence, the sun sent streams of gold across the white sheets, its brightness seeming to mock the situation. He sat for a moment, and knew the reason why he couldn't tear his eyes from her. This was his fault, he had done this to her. 

He sighed, shutting his eyes as his thoughts chased through his head. He could feel the beginnings of a headache starting to form. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'How did this happen?' He thought, events of the past days, past weeks and even past years playing in his head. The image of her disheveled apartment played out in his mind over and over. Finding the blood, finding Will, finding the double, finding everything except for her. The sight still haunted him, even though Sydney was now right in front of him. Only now she was more unreachable than ever. 

            Glancing around her barren apartment, he finally realized just how fragile she was. He rubbed his hand over his face, then stopped in mid motion, feeling the wedding band that still adorned his finger. He paused, brought his hand down to his lap, staring at the gold band that caged his finger. He took a quick breath as he toyed with the ring on his finger before he quickly slipped it off, placing it in the inner pocket of his jacket. His thoughts stole back to his wife, and the way he had left her behind. 

_            "Michael," She spoke steadily as she clung to the doorframe of their bedroom. "This isn't working." She said, watching him pull clothes from the dresser, folding them neatly into the suitcase that lie open on the bed. _

_He stopped as he heard her words. He paused, a shirt still in his hand as he took a breath. "I know and it's my fault."_

She sighed loudly and looked away from him. "When were you planning on telling me this?" Her voice rising in anger, "You can't just pick up and leave whenever you feel like it."

_"I, I can't deal with this now." He said, his face worn, as his tired eyes met the blue of hers.  _

_"Michael talk to me." She begged, her voice softening as she stared at him. _

_He looked at her and saw her honest face, raw with emotion. Sincere concern covered her delicate features as she waited for him. She had waited for him for over a month now, waited for him to come fully back to her. She had expected it'd last a couple days, but days turned into weeks and weeks into months, and she was tired of it. "Michael if you can't talk to me I don't know who you're looking to talk to. And if you are looking for someone else then we have a problem." _

_            "Alice..." He began but trailed off, not knowing what else to say. He avoided her eyes, knowing they'd be full of pain. "I'm so sorry, but I can't do this." He spoke, his voice raspy.  She nodded but kept her head down and her eyes glued to the floor. She finally looked up at him, blonde hair straying over her face, covering her pleading eyes._

_            "Michael, if you're going to leave," She paused fighting for her breath as she fought off tears, willing herself to be strong. "Don't bother coming back." _

_            He jerked his head up at her words, surprised, but then again they both knew they'd be spoken eventually. He walked over to her, standing close, she pursed her lips as she waited for him to speak. _

_            "I'm sorry that I hurt you Alice." He said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, but she shied away from his touch, her body stiffening. He looked down at the carpeting. A long silence ensued, unbroken by any noise. Finally he spoke, "I'll just leave."_

He had booked the next flight to Chicago. The entire flight, Irina's threatening words seemed to echo through his mind,  _"Do not let my daughter break."_

Vaughn glanced up at the broken woman that lay before him on the bed. "Oh Syd." He whispered quietly, before letting a solitary tear roll down his cheek.

TBC…….

Review!


	8. 8

Alright folks, here's chapter eight! One more chap left after this so I hope y'all like it. Sorry again for the delay in posting, but I hope to have the last chap up by either this weekend or else I don't know when since I'm going out of town next weekend. Thanks again for reading, feel free to drop a note (I love reviews!) And thanks so much to AnnaSun, Spana, jennycraig10, WithAPenInHerHand, and aliasscape for reviewing-you made my day!         

Just a warning that there is a tad bit of language in this chapter, but it fits with the events.  

The song is Going Under, by Evanescence, I do not own it. 

Sydney's eyes fluttered open, she strained through the darkness that enveloped the room. A glance over to her clock told her it was 3:39 AM. She groaned slightly as she shifted in her bed, her mouth was dry, and her lips were cracked. She needed a glass of water. She struggled to sit up on her bed, her eyes catching on the form of a man.  A thrill of terror shot though her entire body, reaching from her fingertips to the ends of her toes. She scrambled off the bed, standing frigid in the darkness just staring at his sleeping form through the darkness of the night. The sound of her own breathing echoed in her ears as she tried to slow her rapid heartbeat, fearing the deafening pounding of it would wake him from his sleep. 

She tiptoed hurriedly across the creaky floorboards, for once glad that'd she had been a spy and she made it to her bathroom undetected. Immediately she started heaving over the toilet, she wasn't sure if it was from seeing him or from the drugs that still plagued her system.  Her hands shook as she lifted herself into a standing position. Suddenly her memory filled with remnants of the day before, she shut her eyes tightly, wishing it all away. She reached for a bottle of aspirin, popping some pills to dull the pain. The bitter taste of acid lingered in her mouth as she sensed a movement behind her.  She spun quickly, immediately regretting it as her head swam in dizziness. 

            She said nothing as she stared at him, darkness hiding their faces as he stood stoic, wearing his usual suit and tie, though slightly wrinkled from sleeping hunched over in a hard chair. An unbearable silence permeated the room, as both felt each other's intense gaze, as if they were peering into each other's souls. She finally spoke. 

            "What the hell are you doing here?" Her voice was even, a strong cadence flowed from her as she hid beneath the guise of her past. He didn't answer her. She moved closer to him. "What are you doing here?" She repeated. 

            "Syd…" He began softly. Her head jerked at the sound of her name. 

            "Don't call me that." She ordered, her voice harsh, breaking off his words. Her eyes darted about nervously as her palms started to sweat. Vaughn stepped back, frustrated. This was not how it was supposed to happen. He looked at her with a hard face; if she was going to play this game so could he. 

            "Alright Agent Bristow," He paused, the words feeling funny in his mouth, as they were seldom spoken. "As your handler and CIA contact, I felt I was obligated to come check up on my agent, seeing as how your control of emotion responses to situations or should I say lack there of, are very far from the standard protocol of the company." 

"F*ck off." Her cheeks ablaze with anger, flushed with color in stark contrast to the world around her.

Now I will tell you what I've done for you  
50 thousand tears I've cried  
Screaming deceiving and bleeding for you  
And you still won't hear me  
Don't want your hand this time I'll save myself  
maybe I'll wake up for once  
Not tormented daily defeated by you  
Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom  
I'm dying again  
  


This wasn't going anywhere. He dropped the act. "Sydney I need to talk to you."

            "Oh that's great," she paused, "You, need to talk to me!" She spat sarcastically. "Here, why don't you lie down on the couch while I grab my notebook"

            "Sydney, listen to me." He spoke quietly. 

            "Why should I?" She asked incredulously. Stumbling in the darkness, she made her way over to the window. 

            _Because I love you._ The words circulated in his head, but somehow couldn't bring himself to say it. She waited for him, she waited for him to say it. Another long silence overtook the dark room. 

  
_I'm going under  
Drowning in you  
I'm falling forever  
I've got to break through  
I'm going under_

            She shook her head slightly, and closed her eyes tightly, as if giving in. 

            "What did you come here for?" She questioned, the harshness of her voice vacant, but replaced by pain and anguish.

"Syd." He breathed. It was the only word he could think to say.

"Look, If you came here for closure, or whatever the hell you want, to look like you're a martyr," She accused, "or just so you can make yourself feel okay so that when you go back to your wife you wont have the guilt of my existence plaguing you every day."  The spark of the woman who she used to be shown through the ragged exterior as her voiced laced itself with anger.

"That's not why I'm here and you know it." He spoke insistently. 

"Do I?" She questioned, her eyes open wide. 

  
_Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies  
So I don't know what's real and what's not  
Always confusing the thoughts in my head  
So I can't trust myself anymore  
I'm dying again_

He stood in a stunned silence, her words biting at his heart. He swallowed and pushed past it. He wasn't going to let her off that easy. 

"Look at me." He demanded, moving towards her. 

  
_So go on and scream  
Scream at me I'm so far away  
I won't be broken again  
I've got to breathe I can't keep going under_

"No." She refused hiding in the shadows cast by the pale moonlight through the large window. He sighed and she heard his footsteps cross the room. Her voice sounded so strong, and it wasn't until he turned on that light he was able to see just how weak she was.  Light flooded the room as he approached her. "Look at me." He commanded again, this time taking her face in his strong hands, forcing her eyes to meet his. She meagerly struggled against him, fighting to stay far from his eyes. "Sydney!" 

She looked up at him, into his deep green eyes, only for a split moment before she slipped away. Tears formed in her eyes as she backed away from him. She drew in a ragged breath, as she tried to stable herself. 

"Please, just go away." She pleaded, wringing her hands as she shrank back, her thin form seeming to disappear in the wall behind her. 

"Sydney I'm not leaving you." He stated strongly. She perked up at his words, a confused look etched in her face as she pursed her lips. Her tearful eyes finally locked with his as she spoke with sadness in her voice. 

"You already did."

He was still. A long moment passed. 

"Just because you're too frightened to face up to the reality that…" He began as he watched her cross the room. 

"I'm not." She said, her voice wavering as she cut him off. 

He walked to her quickly, grabbing her gently. "Syd, don't leave. You have to stop doing this, you have to stop doing this to yourself.  Please. Come back…" He began to ramble on, his voice thick with emotion. By now tears streamed down her face, dropping soundlessly to the floor beneath them. Her body started to shake, a combination of his presence and the drugs that still lingered in her system. 

"I can't." She broke away from his grip, years of suffering finally coming to the surface as she suddenly couldn't stand to see him anymore. She couldn't bear to watch him plead, his green eyes probing hers. "Please go."  

She ran to the bathroom, slamming the door, at once sinking to the floor, her fingers tracing the all too familiar lines of the tile as she leaned up against the door.  "I don't want you to see me like this." She called softly in resignation, as she took a deep breath, fighting off the shallow breaths that led her into panic as her world blurred in front of her. 

            She listened to the shuffle of his feet, and knew he was on the other side of the door. 

"Please leave," she begged of him, tears now endlessly pouring down her face. "Please leave." She kept repeating her mantra her hands clung desperately to the door. 

He stared at the closed door, listening to her cries. And then he left.

TBC….

  
  



	9. 9

            Alright y'all. I present to you the final chapter of Extirpation. I hope y'all like it! Thank you so much for reading my little story, I hope you enjoyed it!      

            Another special thanks to aliasscape, aimee, Emily, WithAPenInHerHand, Raina Elizabeth, UConn Fan, Rachael, AnnaSun, WhooHaa19, Lioness1, Breezy Walsh and willow-22 for reviewing, Y'all have said so many nice things, thanks so much, I love knowing that people enjoy reading my stories! Thanks again!

The song is My Immortal, by Evanescence, I do not own it. 

Another week had passed. Vaughn gave an exhausted sigh and sunk into a deep armchair. His green eyes wearily scanned the brightly lit room. Unopened boxes were piled high, open ones lay scattered across the thick beige carpeting, miscellaneous items protruding from their cardboard walls.  He turned to the end table next to the solitary chair and opened a beer. He leaned back in his chair, holding his beer in one hand, and rubbing the other over his tired eyes. 

"You know when you asked me to help you move in, I just figured the word 'help' meant to be of assistance, not to be your slave."

Vaughn looked up. Weiss stood in the doorway leading from his bedroom with a box in his hand and a look of disgust. 

"Hey," He looked up at him, "Sorry I was just taking a break." 

"I see that." Weiss replied, setting the box down on the kitchen counter and grabbed a beer out of the fridge and walking to the living room to join him. He leaned against the wall, as there was no other furniture in the small house yet. "So you're now officially a bachelor again, you going to spiff up the old bachelor pad?" He suggested playfully. 

"I can't believe you just referred to my house as a bachelor pad. You know if I didn't know you better I'd think that you're already drunk." He said. Weiss replied with a sardonic grin just as his cell phone rang out. 

"Weiss." He answered. "Oh hi baby." Vaughn watched him with interest. "No, no I'm not too busy." A brief pause followed, "I'm positive. Okay, I'll see you in twenty." Weiss clicked off his phone, looking back at Vaughn. 

"Uh, yeah that was Ashley." Weiss explained, trying to avoid Vaughn's smirk that played upon his face. "She just got off work, so…"

            "So you mean you'd rather go make out with your girlfriend than unpack with me all night?" He asked with feigned surprise. 

            "Shut up." He said good-naturedly. His tone suddenly turned serious. "You gonna be alright?"

            "Yeah, I'll be fine." Vaughn spoke in a low tone. He noticed Weiss' concerned expression. "I'll be fine, _baby_." He added sarcastically. 

            "Alright, alright I'm leaving."  Weiss spoke, throwing up his arms in defeat for dramatic effect. He grabbed his keys off the barren counter as he headed out the door. "I'll call you tomorrow." He added. 

            "Okay." He called out as he heard the door shut, leaving him with only his thoughts. 

            Vaughn surveyed the room, they had finished unpacking most of his bedroom and kitchen, but the living room was littered with boxes. He closed his eyes, too tired to deal with it all now. He leaned back in his chair, his thoughts wandering back to her. It was inevitable, she'd always be on his mind. His dreams were plagued by her eternal presence, a picture of her grave face, never ceasing to haunt him.

 He remembered waking up to the sound of her retching. He hadn't known what to expect. This was the worse he'd ever seen her. And it scared him. He had left, his mind overwhelmed and his heart heavy. He wanted to save her, he truly did. Only she didn't want to be saved. He was naive to think he could, to think she had based her entire existence solely upon him. His mind still struggled to comprehend how such as strong woman could become so weak. 

Guilt then crept into his consciousness as he began to patronize himself over the past, as he had done countless times before. He shouldn't have dropped her off that night, he shouldn't have gotten married, he should have been there for her, and mostly, he should have stayed. But he had booked a flight back to L.A. Flying out of Chicago and out of Sydney's life, that's what she had said she wanted. He half expected Irina to come and kick his ass for leaving, he still hadn't completely ruled out that possibility. 

_I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all of my childish fears  
And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
Because your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone_   
  


            He looked around his house again. It felt so empty, and he felt so alone. Suddenly something moved off to his left. His head whirred around, and he saw a stubby dog waking up from his spot near the door. Vaughn watched the short dog spring on his feet and come trotting over to him. 

            "Hey Donovan." He spoke, his own voice breaking the quiet, as he reached down to pet the lazy dog. Vaughn sighed and forced himself to his feet, there were still piles of boxes to be unpacked, and wasn't like he had anything better to do. He glanced at the clock on the microwave, blinking 8:19 in confident red letters. He vaguely remembered that there was a Kings game on tonight, too bad he hadn't hooked up his television yet. 

            Two hours and six boxes later, Vaughn laid exhausted on the floor of his living room. His eyes threatened to close, they had been moving in since seven AM that morning. He halfheartedly made an effort to get up to go to bed but failed miserably, as he remained stretched across the still desolate living room. He sighed audibly, and heard the gentle jingling of Donovan's collar approach as he saw his dog faithfully pat across the floor, and lay down contentedly next to him. The sharp sound of his cell phone ringing jolted him out of his slightly stupefied state. He groaned as found his way to his feet, his ears following the sharp ringing as he tried to remember where he had last thrown his cell phone. He finally found it in the pocket of his coat that lied haplessly on the kitchen table next to his keys. 

            He picked it up, an unknown number displayed across the screen. He shook his head a little as if to wake himself up a bit before answering. 

            "Hello?" A short pause followed. A small voice came on the other end.  

            "Joey's Pizza?" 

            He froze as he heard the words. His heart pounding wildly in his chest and he was suddenly wide-awake, adrenaline coursing through him. His mind started working a thousand miles a minute before he realized he hadn't replied. 

            "Uh, sorry wrong number." He managed to squeak out before hastily grabbing his keys off the table and bolting out the front door. 

            His footsteps seemed unbearably loud as he walked into the warehouse. It was dark, it always seemed to be dark. But a full moon hung in the night sky, and he was sure there were stars, but the obtrusive lights of the city masked their radiance. He breathed deeply, the familiar scent of the warehouse flooded back to him, spurring on a hundred memories. His heart was pounding so loudly that it reverberated in his ears, a combination of anticipation and unadulterated fear. He both dreaded and welcomed each step he took across the cold, gray cement. He pulled back the metal fence, rattling it loudly, and immediately he saw her. 

            She was standing tall, yet hiding in the corner, her arms crossed in front of her chest, hugging herself. It was dark, the only light coming from a naked bulb hanging far up on the tall rafters, but she looked better, her face had color, she didn't look as ragged. But the solemn expression on her face was still one of pain, anguish and fear. She looked at him tentatively, glancing down at the floor before he could make eye contact. He entered the cage; she was distanced as far away from him as possible.

            "Hey." She spoke softly, gazing at the cement floor as if she held an intense fascination with it. 

            "Hey." He replied, wrinkling his forehead in concern. He watched her as she bit her bottom lip before she struggled to speak. A million unspoken words begged to be spoken, but their pleas were in vain. A cold draft wafted across the room, chilling them to their cores. She shivered faintly.  

            "I, I just wanted to see you." She offered meekly, finally raising her eyes to his as she gripped the chain link fence tightly, her fingers curving around the cold metal. 

            "Here I am." 

            She nodded, uninvited tears suddenly springing into her eyes. She tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. He watched her as she visibly fought a battle from within. She unexpectedly looked up at him. 

            "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. I can't, I can't…" She whispered almost inaudibly, turning towards the exit quickly. 

_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_

            But he moved swiftly and caught her arm, spinning her back around. He wasn't about to let her go. She looked up at him with brown orbs, filled with panic and fright. 

"Why are you doing this?" He asked her urgently, tired of seeing her in pain, tired of letting her pain torment him. She was silent, her bottom lip trembled as tears dangerously threatened to spill from her eyes. "Sydney!" He called out to her desperately. She pulled away from his grip but didn't back away. "Why are you doing this?" He repeated, this time his voice softening. 

"Because I'm terrified of you." She cried faintly, her voice cracking, a single tear escaping as it fled down her cheek. Her answered shocked him, he furrowed his brow in concentration as he studied the woman before him. 

_You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light  
But now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me  
  
_

"Why?"

"Because I need you to love me!" She whimpered in distraught, a look of pure honestly shown across her face. She backed away from him, tears now streaming down her broken face, forming rivers around the curves of her face. His eyes softened as he heard her words, his heart still jumping in his chest. He was stunned yet again, her brutally honest confession striking him. He moved closer, closing the large gap that separated them. She watched as he moved closer, but she didn't edge away. He silently took her face in his hands, gently brushing away the streams of tears. Her eyes slid shut as she took in a breath, trying to compose herself but failing miserably. 

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
when you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
and I've held your hand through all of these years  
but you still have all of me  
  
_

            "Syd?" He questioned quietly, waiting to finish until she looked into his eyes. She looked up him their eyes locking. "I love you." He stated simply. A small smile shown through her tears, as she sobbed in relief. She took a moment before gazing into his eyes, which were now laced with evidence of his own tears. 

            "I love you too." She replied softly, smiling up at him. She laughed briefly, imagining what the two of them must have looked like, but was cut short by the feeling of his lips on her own.

 She got lost in his kiss; her head was spinning, her heart doing flip-flops in her chest as she reveled in the once familiar feel of his lips. Her hands wandered up his strong arms, making their way into his hair. She felt his left hand stroke her face ever so gently as his right hand drew her closer to his body as she left herself get lost in the feeling of bliss. 

            At last they were forced to break away for air. She leaned back, breathing deeply, staring into his eyes, finding them filled with love, mirroring what she held in her eyes for him. He smiled and pulled her tightly against his body. She indulged herself in his touch as memories flooded back to her of times when they were together. A smile formed on her face as she thought of all the times they'd have together in the future. She needed him, and he needed her just as much.

            He stroked her hair, breathing in her scent, in disbelief about how he could have gone this long without her. A comfortable silence filled every inch of the warehouse as he reflected on what it took to finally be here. But it was worth it. She was worth it. A smile played upon his face as well. 

            "Don't ever leave me." He spoke softly, not wanting to break the beauty of the moment, but was unable to fend off the tears in his own eyes any longer. 

Sydney up into his eyes, now saturated with tears. She shook her head slightly, "I won't." She replied gravely, looking deep into his eyes. She sunk into his chest as she whispered. "Never again." 

FIN  
   
  
  


A/N- Thanks again for reading my fic! Please review! I hope you liked it! Constructive criticism is welcomed! Also, I don't really know how well the story played out as far authenticity in the whole suicide and heroine thing-as I've never been a drug addict and didn't do much research on it, so comments are appreciated! But anyways, drop me a note!  

P.S.  If you're desperately awaiting the season premiere (like I am), you can check out my other post-telling fic, Recrudescence, and maybe it'll quench your longing for at least 10 minutes. Lol. Or, ~insert shameless plug~ check out my other two Alias fics, The Nearness of You, and One Fish, Two Fish.


End file.
